


Bad Boy, Good Man

by write_your_wrongs



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Burlesque, Multi, gamzee gets in trouble, kanaya and rose are dancers, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:38:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/write_your_wrongs/pseuds/write_your_wrongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave, Bro, and Gamzee all run a New York City speakeasy in the 1930's, but when Gamzee gets in trouble with the mafia, they have to run away to the other side of the country, Washington. There, they meet Rose, the owner of a popular Burlesque club. She agrees to hire them, and then Dave meets a waiter there, his name John Egbert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Years Eve

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first chapter of idk how many, depends on how long i want to make the story and if anyone like it/ is reading it. feel free to comment any ideas or anything youd like me to incorporate into the story.  
> hope you enjoy~

“Hey what’s the password?” Gamzee said as he looked through the peephole. His voice slurred just the slightest amount, letting Dave know that he had already has his first, or second, drink of the day.

“Its Strider alright, you know that. Now just let me in before I freeze to death out here,” he responded, perhaps a tad too harsh sounding than he had planned. But after all, it was below freezing and rather windy outside so Dave wasn't having any of Gamzees 'What's the password' bullshit this afternoon. He heard the lock of the door release and opened it, sighing as the warm air of the speakeasy hit his near frostbitten face. Dave took his hat off, removed the snow from the brim, and set it on top of the coat rack, marking the beginning of another long night. The younger Strider didn't re-lock the door yet, seeing as Bro hadn't arrived yet. He was still sleeping when he left the apartment and didn't bother waking him. Figures though because of what ensued last night. Some bum came in, spent what was probably his life savings on rum, and passed out in the center of the bar. Bro told Gamzee to cut him off after what seemed to be his 50th drink but he didn't listen to him like usual. So end of story, Bro had to wait until the man woke up to close shop, which was about 7 in the morning. The guy needed his sleep he supposed so Dave wasn't going to pester him about being late when he did eventually arrive.

“Dave! I got a few new bottles of vodka today. Even some new and interesting flavors that are sure to drive our customers crazy. Only the best for us, as always.” Gamzee opened the glass shelves filled with liquor and moved a few other bottles around to make space for the new additions.

“And where exactly did you get them. Bro said we couldn't afford anything more until the end of the month," Dave asked, a hint of annoying in his voice.

“Well you see, I got a pretty damn good deal on these man. They had a special, two for the price of one so of course I couldn't pass that up.”

“Yeah okay, I’ll let it slide. Just don’t make any big purchases before the end of the month. And hey, get me some hot apple cider or something,” Dave told him as he started picking chairs up off the tables and flipping them right side up, cringing at the sound of the chairs legs on the wood flooring when he slide them under the table. He turned on a few lamps to brighten the place up, seeing as it was underground and the most light they ever got came from people coming and going through the front door. Other than that, it was pretty grim and dark which was great for the bars atmosphere none the less, but sometimes Dave needed a bit of light in his dreary life.

Dave could smell the apple cider and skipped over to the bar. He took a sip from the hot mug and sighed, feeling the warmth. Winter in New York was brutal, but didn't seem as bad as long as he had his apple cider fix every once and a while. Unfortunately for Dave and his oh so precious moment, the door swung open, letting snow flurries come in and hit the side of his face. Bro had arrived, and spoiled his winter moment in the making.

“Well hello, hello, hello everyone. Ya’ll ready to make some more cash tonight? Its new year’s eve after all so we’re sure to be full to the brim with thirsty costumers tonight,” Bro said in a loud voice, which clashed exquisitely with the warm and quiet atmosphere. Bro pressed a button, which lit up the light on the outside of the speakeasy's door, letting people know that we were open for business. Dave had just enough time to finish his drink before people started coming in, snow gathering in the entry way which Gamzee swept away every so often. The most popular drink of the night was the infamous 'Southside', made with gin, lime, mint and simple syrup. Word on the street was that it's Al Capone's favorite. All the local gals dressed up in long silk dresses with plunging neck lines, adorned with pearls of all lengths, hair curls and pinned up, and the sent of perfume mixing with the bitter sweet smell of alcohol. Some of the richer women wore fur coats and diamond head dresses. A few of the news boys came in, trying to get some drinks with the money they had saved up. The old bum from the night before also turned up but Bro quickly gave him the boot along with a few rude words. Dave was busy mixing drinks, running out of lemon juice twice, having to use orange instead. In fact, the men liked his new concoction better.

The night went on without a hitch surprisingly enough. A few of the girls even got up and sang songs for the gentlemen. Of course Gamzee had to give them a free drink after that and even wooed one of them, afterword, disappearing with her for a good hour, coming back with hair even messier than before. Dave looked at the clock, seeing that it was already 3am. The late hours of the night turned into early hours of the morning quickly, with the sun rising around 7 o'clock. Most everyone had left except for a few of the news boys who offered to help clean up in exchange for some cash. Bro passed out in corner around 8 and Dave decided to just let him sleep, locking up and leaving the keys on the bar so Bro could let himself out when he did awake.

Dave went back up to his apartment. The lock on their door was always hard to open, but he got it on the first try. When he went inside, he imediatly let out a overly dramatic groan and stretched a little before walking over to his record player and putting on his favorite track. He grabbed a book from the shelf (which was just as packed as their liquor cabinet) and plopped down on the couch, letting the upbeat music drown out the city noises. He began to drift off to sleep not even ten minutes later but was brought back to reality by the sound of the telephone ringing. He groaned just as loudly before and rolled out of bed, walking to the kitchen slowly and picking up the phone.

"Ugh, who is it," he grumbled.

"Hey man, sorry I woke you up." It was Gamzee on the other side of the phone, his voice a bit more weary than usually but Dave decided not to bring attention to that.

"Nah whatever, just make it quick," he responded, calm and casual like always

Gamzee paused for what seemed like a minute, hesitating before he said in a hushed tone, "I need your help right now. I think I'm in big mother fucking trouble right now, and- I don't think we're safe here anymore."


	2. cigarettes and roadtrips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> welp, thanks to gam, they gotta run away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha chapter two, hope its not too terrible.  
> please enjoy ~

Dave immediately put down the phone, staring at the wall and gulping. He quickly chucked his shoes back on and ran back down to the bar, not even bothering to lock the door to his apartment. When he reached the entrance, he assessed the damage to the door; it looked busted open. The lock was broken off, wood splinters on the hinges, the small stain glass window in the center was broken, bits of the shards laying o the snow. Carefully walking in, trying to avoid any of the sharp pieces, he saw Bro was sitting at one of the tables, his head in his hands. The music from the gramophone which was cheerful, contrasted with what was currently going on, giving an eerie touch to the scene in front of him. Gamzee was pacing around with what look to be a few scratches on his face, a bruise starting to form on the side of his nose, and disheveled clothes.

Dave was lost for words, not sure what to ask about first. “Bro, what the hell happened here? Why is…the door…and, and Gamzee…” Bro looked up and paused for what felt like forever.

“Gamzee’s in some deep shit with the mob little bro... Owes a lot of money that we don’t have. They knocked down our fucking door. Gam tried fighting back but they just gave him a few punches and said if we didn't have the money in three days, we’d all be goners. And that's it, they just left.” He spoke with a low, monotonous voice, looking down at the floor.  
“We leave then,” Dave said sternly, just blurting out the first and most obvious idea that came to his mind.

“…huh,” was all Gamzee had to say.

“Yes, we leave. Pack up everything and get the hell out of dodge. Start over in a new place on the other side of the country.” The thought seemed nice, they would get away scot-free and settle down wherever they wanted.

“I mean, they wouldn't have much of a way of tracking us down. If we make sure not to leave any evidence, there’s no way they could find us....” Bro entertained. Gamzee looked up at them, hopeful.

“This….sounds crazy, but I guess crazy is good. I ain't got no shit here besides you two anyway. It’ll be like we dropped off the face of the Earth,” Gamzee said. Bro sat back down and placed his head in his hands once more. A minute had gone by since anyone had spoken. They were waiting for Bro to say something, anything is response.

Finally he spoke up. “Alright, let’s do it.” He got up out of his chair and went to the cash register. He took out a paper sack and began filling it with everything that was in there, upwards of two-thousand dollars.

“Dave, go to the safe and get the rest of the money. Gam, you’re going to need to pack up what you got, only the important things though, don’t take any liquor,” Bro said firmly. The two teens got to work immediately, Dave jetting back up to the apartment. He frantically found the safe, which Bro re-hid every so often just to keep Dave on his feet, and punching in the digits. Gamzee only packed enough to fill a bag and a half, shoving a few packs of cigs in his jacket pocket. Bro went back upstairs to the apartment and started packing his bag. He rustled through his drawers and found the first picture they had ever taken with each other the day they opened the speakeasy. The picture was taken in 1924. Dave was only 14 then. Three years later and the place was still doing well, packed almost every night .

“Dave you got everything from the safe?”

“Yes sir I do. Loaded the hand gun for you too,” Dave yelled over to the other room as he shoved clothes, important parcels, photographs, and a few autographed books into his suit case. The mob did say they only had three days to give them the money, but you never know with them. They could be back tomorrow morning with a machine gun ready to fire at their asses if they didn't get what they wanted. Even if they did have the money, the chances of them blowing them out of the water after they got their cash was too high. The only logical way out was for them to run away, right?

“Hey um... Bro, where the hell are we gonna drive off too?” Dave shouted to Bro, who was in the kitchen, sharpening his sword.

“Wasn't this your idea? Couldn't you have thought this through a little more? Eh whatever. I was thinking Washington anyway. Its way west and I haven’t heard of any shit going down there so why not,” Bro responded. Washington should be good, after all, Bro was right, not much shit happened there that they had heard of.

With both their bags packed, they headed down to the bar once more, being careful and looking out for anyone suspicious. Gamzee was outside taking a drag, his old tattered bags next to his. He has thrown on a leather jacket and a hat.

“You two motherfuckers ready to go?” He asked fairly calmly, laughing a bit at the end. For fucks sack Gamzee, this was not the best time to be getting high.

“Yes, we’re all ready I think,” Bro sounded much more serious that Gamzee’s nonchalant vibe. They all walked down to the apartment complex’s garage. Dave shoved what he could into their cars trunk and put the rest into the back seat where Gamzee was. Dave took the passenger side. He pulled out a map, discussing with Bro what route they should take. Gamzee slid to one side of the back seat and put his legs up on the rest of the seat, crossing them. He took a long drag before he spoke.

“So Washington hm? Sounds good to me, let’s get going,” he said, voice hoarse. Bro backed the car out of the dark and empty garage. Guess everyone was on vacation, seeing their families like normal and not running away from the mob. The roads were empty too, everyone was gone it seemed like. It felt too quiet, awkward even. They had no idea what to say and frankly didn’t want to say anything at all. The two day drive was going to feel like weeks to them. At least Dave had his books to pass the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dang okay, shits getting serious i guess. feel free to ask questions and comment concerns or suggestions.


End file.
